


Amsterdam

by xtremeroswellian



Series: Amsterdam [2]
Category: Jericho
Genre: Black Jack - Freeform, Danger danger danger, F/M, Hints of human trafficking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24279715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: A group from Jericho sets out to Black Jack to try and acquire items for the town. It doesn't go as planned.
Relationships: Jake Green & Heather Lisinski
Series: Amsterdam [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752682
Kudos: 3





	Amsterdam

"Well, this can't be good," Eric muttered to his brother as they stepped into town hall as Gray was setting up a chalkboard at the front of the room. He cast a sidelong glance to Mary, who sat a few feet away. He drew in a breath and looked away once more when she glanced at him. 

"Yeah," Jake followed his brother in, careful not to bump into people so that he wouldn't upset his recent injuries. "Wonder what he wants." 

"Guess we'll find out." He took a seat beside Jake. 

A few moments later the town hall was packed with nearly every citizen in Jericho. 

"Geez, this must be huge," Stanley's voice floated through the crowd as he made his way over to the Green brothers. "I've never seen this place more packed." 

"Me either," Eric confessed. "Not even on election day." 

"Guess that's what happens when the apocalypse has arrived on your doorstep," Mimi grumbled, shivering a little as she stood behind Stanley. 

He put an arm around her. "Oh don't be so grim." 

She shot him a look, but remained silent. 

"All right, people." Gray looked over the crowd and picked up a piece of chalk. "I've been going over the figures and we only have enough gas in this town to keep the generator going another two weeks, maximum five hours a day." 

"Damn," Jake whispered, shaking his head. 

"Great, just scare the whole damn town," Johnston grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. 

Straightening, Jake fixed his gaze on Gray. "And what do you suggest we do?" 

"We need to find a way to get more fuel," he responded, gazing at Jake evenly. 

"What about a windmill generator?" The voice from the back was quiet, familiar. Eric turned to see Heather standing in the back of the room. 

"We don't have one," Gray said, giving her an odd look. 

"If we had the right parts we could make one. We wouldn't have to rely on fuel anymore at all." She gazed at Gray. 

"She's smart," Stanley murmured, turning. 

"Where do you suggest we get these parts?" Gray asked, raising his eyebrows. 

A new voice interrupted. "Black Jack." 

"Excuse me?" 

Emily put a hand on Roger's arm and looked at him curiously. 

"When we were walking here, there was a camp set up. Called Black Jack. People take things there to trade to get for other things they need. If we could get someone to go there, maybe someone would trade whatever we needed for salt or something we aren't almost out of," he suggested, glancing back at Emily. 

Jake nodded in agreement, puzzled by who this man was that was now beside Emily. "He's right. We should get out there and try to do some trade." 

"How far is that?" Gray questioned. 

"Pretty far. 100 miles maybe?" 

He hesitated. "I'm not sure we can afford to waste the gas on something that's not a sure bet." 

"Then we only take one car." 

"It's worth a shot," Eric agreed, glancing at his brother, then at Gray. 

He looked over the crowd once more. "Any volunteers?" 

Heather stepped forward. "I'll go." 

Stanley was the next to stand. "I'll go too." 

"All right, those of you going, see me after the meeting and we'll strategize." 

There was a murmur of agreement through the crowd before they began dispersing. 

Fifteen minutes later, Heather, Stanley, Roger, Gray, Eric, Jake and Emily stood around the podium. "Black Jack's a dangerous place," Roger said gravely, glancing at Heather uncertainly, and then at Gray. 

"We'll go armed," Stanley said, folding his arms. 

"They'll make you leave your weapons at the entrance," Roger warned, glancing at him. "They don't allow them inside the camp. And be careful. The things we heard on our way here…the guards are worse than the thieves." 

Heather grimaced a little, not looking at anyone in particular. 

"It's good that we'll have a big group," Jake spoke up, stepping forward. "They'll be less likely to bother us if we stay together. 

She lifted her gaze to look at him when he spoke, surprise registering on his face. 

"What? You're going?" Emily looked at him, mouth agape. 

He nodded. "Yeah. I am." 

"Jake, you've only been out of the hospital a few days," she said worriedly, shaking her head. 

"This isn't about me, Emily. It's about the town." 

"Jake, she's right. Someone else can go," Eric said uneasily. "I'll go." 

Jake clenched his jaw tightly. "I'm fine." 

"You should take some of the armed patrol with you," Gray said quietly, glancing at Jake. 

Stanley stepped forward. "If Roger's right about not having guns, then an armed patrol won't do us any good." 

"And we need those men on patrol here," Eric agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Heather watched the way Jake's gaze shifted to Roger, vague surprise on his face. 

"What else do we need to know about Black Jack?" He asked. 

"Just be on guard. They've had a lot of trouble," Roger warned, gaze flickering to Heather once more, then to Emily. 

"I'm coming too." 

Everyone turned to see Johnston standing a few feet away, hat tilted up on his head just a little. 

Gray raised an eyebrow. "You sure that's such a good idea Johnston?" 

Johnston gave him an even look. "As a matter of fact, I do." 

He let out a long breath and looked at the people before him. "Alright, go home, get some rest. You guys will leave tomorrow morning.” 

Johnston glanced at Jake, then at Stanley. He nodded ever-so-slightly toward the door. When they stepped away, Roger looked at Heather hesitantly. "I'm not sure that you going is the best idea." His voice was quiet. 

Emily looked at him curiously, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Heather shrugged a little and looked at Jake. "Well, that makes two of us." 

Jake stuck his hands in his pockets as he neared his dad. "What's up?" 

"Why didn't you sit this one out?" Stanley suggested quietly. 

He gave him a look. "You honestly expected me to?" 

"More like hoping. Son, you haven't been out of the hospital that long," Johnston pointed out. "And we don't know what we might come up against out there." 

"Dad, this town needs help, and I'm not going to just sit on the sidelines while everyone goes out to do all the work," he took a breath. "Especially when I can help." 

"You've done more than your fair share," Stanley pointed out. 

He shrugged. "Doesn't mean I can't do more." 

Johnston straightened, not looking happy. "I'm gonna head back, start getting ready for tomorrow." 

"Fine," Jake said, turning away. 

"See you at home." He headed away. 

Stanley heaved a sigh and glanced back to where Roger was in what appeared to be somewhat of a heated conversation with Emily and Heather. 

"Heather, I think he might be right," Emily argued back, standing near her fiance. 

Her expression remained blank. "They're rumors. We don't know anything for sure." 

"It's better safe than sorry." 

"Not when this town needs parts for a windmill generator," she argued, unaware that Jake had come up behind them. 

Emily sighed. "I'm just saying--"

"Saying what?" Jake asked, an innocent expression on his face. 

She jumped and turned. "Oh, hey Jake...um...not much..." 

"So you're Jake Green?" Roger looked at him with a guarded expression. 

"Yeah..." He said slowly. "Who are you?" 

"Roger Hammond." He stuck his hand out for him to shake. 

"Oh," his surprised expression fell on Emily. 

She smiled faintly. "You were right when you said he survived." 

"Yeah...I'm glad I was right," he smiled back, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Me too," Roger said with a smile, his eyes still locked on Jake. 

"So what's going on?" Stanley asked curiously, glancing around the little group. 

Jake glanced back at him. "Just...talking." 

"I don't think it's such a good idea for Heather to go to Black Jack," Roger said quietly, not looking at her. Instead he looked intently at Jake. 

"It's not your decision," she said, her voice tense. 

"Why's that?" He asked, raising his chin. 

"We heard things on the way from Nebraska," Roger replied uneasily. "I don't know if they're true, but--" 

"What rumors?" 

Emily looked down at the floor, shifting uncomfortably. 

"That people are being sold into slavery," he answered, his voice hushed. "Women." 

Jake's eyes widened. "Heather, you can't go." 

"We don't know that it's true. That's what rumors are," she said, shaking her head. 

"I don't want to take the risk." 

"No, you're only willing to do that when it's your own life on the line, right?" 

Everyone fell silent. "Well...I think I'm gonna get some air. Roger, Em...wanna come with me?" Stanley suggested. 

Jake narrowed his eyes. "You're not going." 

"Yeah? Would you know a working mechanical governor for a wind turbine if you saw one?" Heather challenged. 

He glared at her for a moment. "You're staying close to me." 

"You're not responsible for me, Jake." 

"Heather, please," his gaze softened. 

She looked away, staring at the wall. "Fine," she said softly. 

"Thank you." 

"I'll see you in the morning," she said, slowly heading for the door. 

"See you," he murmured, watching her go. 

***

"Quite a team we've put together," Johnston commented as he watched Heather head toward Jake's car. 

Stanley nodded, coming up beside him. "Yeah." 

Heather kept her head down as she approached the familiar car, tucking some hair behind her ear self-consciously. She had a feeling it was going to be a really long ride to Black Jack. She suddenly wished she had a working iPod to at least drown out the awkwardness. 

Jake came to the car moments after she did. "Ready?" 

"Yeah." She didn't look at him as she opened the passenger side door and slid into the backseat. 

Getting into the driver's seat, Jake waited for his dad to appear. 

Johnston climbed into the passenger seat while Stanley climbed into the back beside Heather. 

"You get directions from Rodger?" 

"Got 'em," Johnston confirmed, holding up a slip of paper. 

Jake leaned forward, starting the car. "Okay, let’s go." 

"Sure you don't want me to drive?" Stanley offered with a wide grin. It had been a joke between the two of them for years. Jake would never let Stanley drive his precious car and Stanley would never let him drive his favorite tractor. 

He let out a breath. "You can drive." 

His eyebrows shot up and he looked at Johnston with an utterly stunned expression. "What?" 

"Well, unless you don't want to..." 

"Wait, are you serious?" 

Jake nodded a little. 

Worried, Stanley climbed out of the car once more and watched as Jake did the same. "You sure you can handle the backseat?" he asked quietly, giving him a meaningful look. 

Jake smirked. "Unless she's got a gun or something sharp...I think I'll be fine." 

He shook his head a little and slid into the driver's seat. 

Taking Stanley's spot, Jake settled more comfortably in the back seat and leaned his head back. 

Wordlessly Heather shrugged out of her jacket and covered him with it before turning to stare out the passenger window. 

He raised his eyebrow at the act. "Thanks." 

She simply nodded. 

A feel of doom settled upon the four of them as they drew closer to Black Jack. The tension in the car was high, all of them silent as they pulled up to the trading camp. 

Heather took note of a sign that said "Thieves will be strung up." She swallowed hard, watching as Stanley, Jake and Johnston turned over their weapons to the guards at the entrance. 

Jake shook his head after they were waved through the entrance. "Great. I feel safe." 

"They're kidding about that whole strung up thing, right?" Heather asked meekly. 

Jake shook his head grimly and pointed to the hanging figure in the middle of the trading center. 

Her face paled at the sight of the man. There was a cloth bag over his head. "God," she whispered. 

"Stay together," Johnston said, taking the lead. 

Stanley glanced at Jake, then Heather as he followed Johnston, glancing around the camp. He took note of the fact there were no other women around and shot an uneasy look toward Jake. 

Jake noticed the same thing Stanley had, and subtly, he inched himself closer to Heather. 

She didn't seem to notice, swallowing hard as she looked around, feeling just as uneasy as the rest of them. 

"I say we find this thing and get the hell out of here ASAP," Stanley murmured. 

"I'm right with you Stanley," Johnston muttered. 

"Makes three of us," she said inaudibly. 

"Four," Jake said, looking around. 

Stanley fell into step with them on the other side of Heather. "I miss ebay." 

Smiling a little at the humor, Jake shook his head. "I know what you mean." 

"Looks like there's some mechanical things in there," Heather said, nodding slightly to a tent on the right. 

"Okay, we'll go there first." 

Nodding a little, she led the way into the tent. 

The tent was filthy when they walked in. Dirty parts, and dirty men everywhere. "Great...what a nice shop," Jake muttered. 

Heather didn't hear him, moving farther into the tent to examine a part that caught her eye. She picked it up tentatively, examining it. 

"Careful," he said quietly. 

She glanced at him quickly and nodded. "I know." 

"Find anythin' you like?" A man came from the back of the space and over to Jake and Heather. 

"We're looking for a working governor for a windmill turbine," Heather said without hesitation, setting the part down once more. 

The man nodded. "I have just what you want. Wait here." 

She turned to look at Jake, vague surprise on her face. "That was easy." 

His expression mirrored hers. "Yeah, it was." 

"Too easy," she murmured, glancing around as she realized several of the men’s eyes were on her. 

Jake stood protectively in front of her. "Maybe we should go." 

"Jake, we need that part," she whispered, glancing up at him. 

"I know, but we don't need to risk our lives," he whispered back. 

She swallowed hard and looked over as the man returned. 

"I got your part right here," he held it up. "But...what can you give me?" 

"We have 80 pounds of salt in the trunk of our car," she offered. 

He shook his head. "You got anything else?" 

Heather looked back at Jake uncertainly. 

Jake stepped forward. "Salt's all we've got to offer."

The man shrugged. "Your loss I guess." 

"We really need that part," she interrupted. 

"And I really need supplies." 

"What kind of supplies?" 

He pointed to the big blackboard behind them. 

Heather looked over his shoulder to the list of things on the board. Fuel, medicine, meat, working vehicles, salt. "Look, Jericho has the biggest salt mine in this part of the country." 

"Is that so?" 

"That's right. And if you ever want to see any of it, we need to make this trade." 

"Now, now, little lady. Don't get snippy with me," the man's gaze darkened. 

"I'm not being snippy, Sir. Just matter-of-fact." She gazed back at him intently. "Do we have a deal or not?" 

He leaned forward. "No." 

Heather glanced sideways at Jake. 

Jake's jaw tightened. "Look you selfish bastard, our town needs that part. And we're willing to offer you what you want." 

She put a hand on his arm to try and calm him. 

"Is that so?" He smirked and shifted his gaze to look at Heather again, looking her up and down. 

He stepped in front of Heather. "Yeah. That's so." 

"All right. I'll take the eighty pounds of salt you have and agree to a promise of more in the future. On one condition." 

"And what would that be?" 

"She stays here," he said matter-of-factly. 

"Hell no," Jake growled. 

Heather felt the color drain from her face at the man's words. 

He shrugged. "Then there's no deal." 

"Fine. Come on Heather." 

"Pretty name," he commented, leering at her. 

She felt Jake take her by the arm to guide her out of the tent, only to have their way blocked by several other men. Her stomach knotted. 

"Excuse us," Jake's voice was cold, void of emotion. 

"'fraid not," one of them said with a smirk. 

He clenched his fists. "Move." 

"Oh, *you* can go," he said, eyeing Heather. 

"Hey, what the hell's going on?" Stanley demanded, peering over the men's shoulders from the other side of the tent. 

"These...men, and I use that term loosely," Jake glared at them. "Will not move." 

"There a problem here?" he asked nonchalantly, looking at the men intently as a couple turned to face him, giving Heather and Jake the opportunity to slip past them. 

Heather had never been so glad to see Stanley in her life as they stepped back out of the tent. But a hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm. 

"Not so fast," he said against her ear. 

Before the man could do anything else to Heather, Jake came at him, tackling him to the ground. "Stay the hell away from her." 

"Jake!" She moved to help him but someone else grabbed her from behind and without hesitating, she turned and punched the guy hard in the nose, blood splattering. 

One of the other guys yanked Jake off the first man and sent him crashing into a stand of replacement parts. 

"Two against one is hardly fair," Stanley said, grabbing the second man. 

Johnston came up behind Stanley. "I happen to agree with that," he said, punching the man Stanley had in his grip in the stomach. 

Heather moved toward Jake once more, where he lay on the ground, grimacing. 

"Hey, what's going on in here?" a guard demanded, stopping her approach and glaring at her, then turning to glare at Stanley and Johnston. 

"These four are trying to stir up trouble!" A voice shouted from the group. 

"I knew as soon as you walked in here you were gonna be trouble," he responded, scowling at Heather. 

"Hey, it wasn't her fault these perverts decided to harass her," Stanley said angrily. 

Jake stood slowly, arm protectively held around him. When he got to his feet, he didn't stand the whole way. "She didn't do anything." 

"She shouldn't have come here," the guard informed him, glaring. 

She moved to his side, looking at him worriedly. 

"Fine. We'll just be on our way then." Johnston looked intently at the guard. 

"Well maybe if you didn't house all the greedy bastards and perverts here, we wouldn't have a problem," Jake snarked, glaring at the guard. 

Without warning the guard pulled his baton and slammed into Jake's ribs. 

"No!" Heather knelt beside him quickly as he crumpled to the ground. She put a hand on his cheek. "Jake!" 

He groaned. "Dammit..." 

"You're all under detainment," the guard informed them, waving at a couple of his buddies. 

"For what?" Stanley demanded. 

Jake looked up at the guard. "You can't...do that." 

He grinned. "Of course I can. No one here is about to stop me," he said menacingly. "This is a new world. Welcome to it." 

Adrenaline now coursing through his system, Jake lunged at the man. "You son of a bitch." 

"Jake!" Stanley moved to put himself between Jake and the guard, but before he had a chance the guy brought the baton down upon his friend once more. "Stop!" He yanked the baton away only to be clubbed from behind by another guard. He and Jake both fell to the ground. 

"One more stupid move like that, and she dies," the man running the tent said, pulling Heather back against him, a knife to her throat. 

Johnston came between the fallen boys and the guard standing before him. "Now let’s not do anything stupid. Let her go and we'll leave in peace." 

"Too late for that, old man," the guard said with a scowl. He nodded to a couple of his buddies, who yanked Jake and Stanley off the ground violently. "Lock 'em up." 

***

Jake groaned as he was roughly thrown to the ground inside a jail cell. The guards had not been kind on the group as they took them through the crowd and to the cells. If anyone tried to fight back, a baton was immediately greeting their backs. 

Stanley was shoved in next, followed by Johnston, then the cell was slammed shut. Heather was shoved none-too-gently into a cell across from them, by herself. 

Stanley turned as they shut the door, putting his hands on the bars. "We didn't do anything to you!" 

Johnston knelt down beside Jake. "Easy," he murmured. 

Jake sat up slowly, wincing. "Where's Heather?" 

"She's across the way," Stanley told him, looking over to where she stood at the front of the cell, her hands wrapped around the bars. 

He looked up. Seeing her there by herself sent a flash of anger through him and he struggled to get to his feet. 

"Jake, you're already hurt enough. Just sit still and let me get us out of here," Johnston admonished him, shaking his head. 

"Doesn't mean I can't stand, Dad," he argued. 

"Jake, don't argue with your dad." Heather looked around the cell and tried to peer out the bars and around the corner. 

Jake shook his head. "Not you too." 

"Do you see anyone out there?" 

Stanley peered out the bars, using his height to his advantage. "Two guards at the front." 

"How far away?" she asked, pulling a bobby pin from her hair. 

He frowned. "I don't know...maybe fifteen feet?" 

She drew in a breath and knelt down on the ground, peering up at the lock and carefully working the bobby pin into it. 

Johnston watched her with raised eyebrows and looked down at Jake. 

Jake's eyebrows were raised as well. "Where did you learn to do that?" 

"Like I told you...I wasn't very popular in school. Minister's daughter and all," she murmured. 

"So you...decided to learn to pick locks?" 

A faint grin tugged at her lips. "Knew a guy once." She cast a glance toward him. 

"Once? You lock him away never to be heard of again?" 

The lock popped open a little too loudly and she started at the sound of heavy footsteps. She quickly backed away from the door, a frightened look on her face. 

"Hey, buddy, do we at least get a phone call?" Stanley demanded loudly, catching the guard's attention. 

"Stanley, shut up," Jake growled, getting to his feet. 

"Seriously, Stanley," Johnston warned. 

The guard turned to face them, jerking on the cell door and testing the lock with narrowed eyes, glaring at all of them. 

Jake's breath caught in his throat as he watched the guard pull. Thankfully, the lock didn't budge. 

Then he turned and moved across the way to the cell Heather was in. When he pulled on her cell door, it popped open. "Tricky. You're a clever one," he said menacingly. 

She didn't respond, her back pressed against the wall. 

"No...no," Jake moved forward and grabbed the bars. "Hey, you bastard, come back over here." 

The guard slammed the door shut, giving Heather a warning look. "Next time one of your friends dies." 

She swallowed hard, nodding slightly to show she understood. 

Then he turned to glare at Jake. "And you just keep your mouth shut." He slammed his baton against the bars, hitting Jake's knuckles. 

He cried out in pain, drawing his hands away from the bars and cradling them close to him. He'd be damned if a few of his fingers weren't broken now. 

"Are you all right?" Heather moved to the front of the cell again. 

"Let me see," Johnston said. 

Jake extended his shaking hands toward his father, biting his lip. 

Johnston winced a little, carefully examining his son's hands. "Can you move your fingers?" 

He bit his lip, trying to bend his fingers. The pain that knifed through them at the slightest twitch told him that they weren't moving any further. "No." 

"They're broken," he surmised with a frown. 

Heather leaned against the bars of her cell and shut her eyes. 

"Damn," he whispered, drawing his hands away once more and cradeling them. 

"I'm sorry, Jake." Heather's voice was quiet, defeated. 

"Not your fault, Heather." 

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. 

"Down this way," one of the guards said. 

Jake looked up, furrowing his eyebrows. 

"You'll wanna keep an eye on this one though. Too smart for her own good, and can pick a lock." 

"Hey!" Jake stepped forward again. 

Heather stepped back away from the door, her face paling as two men followed the guard to her cell. 

"How much?" The taller man asked, gaze flickering to her, then to the guard. 

"Oh hell no. Get away from her!" He shouted, kicking the bars. 

"Ignore him," the guard said, rolling his eyes and moving to unlock the door. 

Heather's gaze shifted to the shorter man and her eyes widened a little at his familiar face. 

He offered her a quick, reassuring smile. 

"Heather!" 

She quickly looked at Jake, shaking her head very slightly as the guard reached in and grabbed her arm. 

The man she didn't recognize looked her over. "What's the price?" 

"The usual." 

Nodding, he looked at the guard intently. "Done." 

Jake clenched his jaw tightly as the guard led Heather and the man 'buying' her out of sight. 

The shorter man turned to look at him for a moment. "It's gonna be okay," he said in a barely audible voice before heading away. 

Stanley stared after them, horrified and doubly glad Mimi hadn't come with them on this trip. "Jesus. Roger was right." 

Sighing, Jake backed against the wall and slid down slowly, closing his eyes. "Yeah. He was." 

Moments later, Heather appeared once more, holding a set of keys. She fumbled with them and quickly unlocked the cell. "Hurry," she urged. 

Johnston let out a breath, walking over to help Jake up. "Oh thank God." 

She saw the confusion on Jake's face and offered him a quick smile. "I'll explain when we're out of here," she said quickly, leading the way down the hall and out of the building. The tall man who'd "bought" her held the two guards at gunpoint, the shorter man looking around nervously. 

"I'm holding that you to that," he mumbled, leaning against his dad for support as they made their way back through the crowd. 

"We don't have much time," the tall man said, shoving the two guards back down the corridor and into the cell that the guys had just vacated. He locked it quickly and stuck the gun back in his waistband before heading back to the group. "Let's get the hell outta here." 

"Couldn't have said that better myself," Johnston grumbled. 

"Are you all right?" Heather asked anxiously, moving to Jake's other side and carefully draping his other arm around her shoulders. 

He winced as the arm was raised, jarring his body. "Been better. You?" 

"I'm fine. Sorry," she whispered, turning her head to look at him. 

"Don't be sorry," he whispered. 

"I shouldn't have come here." She swallowed hard. 

A small smile played on his face. "I told you not to..." 

"We gotta move faster, Heather," the shorter man said, looking behind them nervously. 

"Hey. He's hurt," Stanley snapped, nodding to Jake. "Give us a break." 

"He'll be worse off if we get caught. We all will." The tall blonde looked at Stanley warily. 

"Jake was shot not that long ago," Heather told him. 

"Christ. What the hell did you come to this place for then?" He shook his head. 

Jake glared at the tall man. "Because our town needs help." 

"And they didn't have any non-gunshot victims to send?" 

"Lay off, Russell," the shorter man said, shooting him a look and then glancing at Heather. "I was gonna send a party to see if you were all right, but the roads have been so bad--" His voice was apologetic. 

She smiled at him. "I'm just glad you were here." 

Stanley raised his eyebrows. 

"And who the hell might you two be?" Johnston spoke up, looking between the two men and Heather. 

"Mayor Green, this is Ted Lewis. We grew up together over in New Bern," Heather said, not quite meeting Johnston's eyes. 

"Russell," the other man introduced, shaking his hand. 

He shook his hand quickly and nodded. "Johnston Green." 

"Nice to meet you." Russell led the way out of the Black Jack exit gate. "That's my truck," he said, nodding to it. 

"That's our car," Heather told him, motioning to Jake's vehicle. 

"And thank God for that," Jake mumbled. 

"Easy," she whispered, helping Johnston guide him to the passenger side. 

"Heather." Ted gazed at her intently. 

Jake all but fell into the seat once they got the door open to the car. Once he was in, he listened carefully to the conversation. 

"You're looking for parts for a windmill generator, right?" 

"Yeah, how did you--" 

"Overheard," he admitted. "I think between the two of us we could pull it off." 

Stanley shook his head. "How?" 

Ted glanced at him. "Heather's pretty much a mechanical genius and I'm not half bad at it myself." 

She gazed at Ted for a long moment. 

He shrugged. "Hey, I only speak the truth." 

"Let's discuss this somewhere else," Russell said suddenly, glancing back toward Black Jack where several guards were heading in their direction. 

"Oh crap," Stanley said, alarmed. "Get in," he said to Heather and Johnston. 

She didn't hesitate to slide into the backseat beside Jake, her eyes widening. 

Johnston hurried around to the other side of the car and got in quickly. Once they were all in, Stanley started the car immediately and floored it. 

Heather winced as she banged her head against the back passenger side window. 

"Sorry," he said, doing a 180 with the car. 

"Just go," she urged, turning to look out the back window, relieved that Ted and Russell weren't wasting any time getting out of there either. 

As they neared the gate, Stanley cursed under his breath. "They're closing it!" 

"Follow Russell," Heather said, reaching out and gripping onto the back of Johnston's seat. 

He nodded, turning the car and getting close behind the giant truck. 

"Brace yourself," she whispered to Jake, glancing at him worriedly. 

He shifted in the seat. "I'm as braced as I'm gonna get." 

She reached out and put an arm across him, knowing it probably wouldn't do much good anyway. She shut her eyes as the truck plowed right through the guard house and Stanley followed right behind them. 

Jake closed his eyes as well, hoping that the next sound he'd hear wouldn't be his car being folded around something. 

Moments later they were zooming down the road behind Russell's truck. Heather let out a relieved breath, sagging back into the seat, her heart still beating quickly. 

Opening his eyes slowly, Jake looked around. "We still alive?" 

Stanley glanced at him in the rearview. "Have a little faith in my driving," he joked. 

Jake smiled tiredly. "I can't. Still scarred from the last time you drove." 

He chuckled and focused on the road once more. 

"So you're from New Bern?" Johnston asked, glancing back at Heather. 

"Yeah." 

"And you grew up with those guys?" Jake asked, turning toward her. 

"I don't know Russell," she admitted. "But yeah, I grew up with Ted." Her voice grew soft. 

"I see..." 

She noted that Jake didn't sound particularly fascinated. She turned her head to look out the window. 

"So did you guys...live near each other?" He asked after a moment, looking down at his now multi-colored hands. 

"Across the street." She bit her lip. 

He nodded. "Hung out a lot then?" 

"Yeah, Ted was like the brother I never had," Heather said, glancing at him sideways. 

"That's nice." 

Stanley glanced in the rearview mirror at Jake, an eyebrow raised. Then he looked at Johnston with an amused smirk. 

"They're stopping," Heather announced, looking out her window. They were now several miles away from Black Jack, no sign of having been followed. Thank God. 

Jake watched as Heather got out to talk to them. "Guess she hasn't seen him in a while..." 

"Green eyed monster," Stanley murmured to Johnston. 

"I'm not jealous Stanley." 

"Okay." He shrugged and looked out the window, watching Heather give Ted a hug. 

Jake leaned forward. "If I could hit you right now without causing more pain...I would. Consider yourself lucky for now..." 

Stanley smirked, glancing at Johnston once more. 

He shook his head a little and looked out the window, remaining silent as Heather conversed with the two New Bern men, her expression growing serious. She looked back at the car, pained. 

"What you think she's talking about?" Stanley asked, puzzled by her look. 

"Doesn't look good," Johnston murmured. 

"No...it doesn't," Jake frowned as he watched the exchange. 

She shut her eyes for a moment, then nodded a little before turning to head back toward Jake's car. 

Stanley rolled down the window as she got to the car. "What's going on?" 

She glanced at him briefly, then shifted her gaze to Jake. "I saw the governor," she said quietly. "And Ted's right. Between the two of us, I think we can build one ourselves." 

Jake frowned. "So what are we going to do?" 

Heather bit her lip. "I'm gonna go back to New Bern with them." Her voice was quiet. 

"Oh," his voice was faint. 

She cast a glance at Stanley, then Johnston, who quickly got the idea. 

"I'm gonna just go have a chat with our new friends," Johnston said awkwardly, climbing out of the car. 

"Uh yeah, me too." Stanley got out as well. 

Jake watched the two of them get out, mild panic rising in him. "I should--" 

"Jake." She gazed at him intently. 

He turned to her slowly. "What?" 

Heather drew in a breath. "It never would have worked." 

He shook his head. "What do you mean?" 

"Us. It never would have worked." She smiled, but her eyes were sad. "But I can do this one thing to help Jericho get back on its feet and that's what I have to do." 

His heart sank at her words, but he didn't let it show. "Yeah...I guess if you feel that you've got to..." 

She swallowed hard and nodded. "So...take care of yourself. Try not to get shot again, okay?" 

He gave her a weak smile. "I'll try." 

She slid her hands into her pockets and looked down at the ground, taking a step back away from the car. "Bye, Jake," she whispered. 

"Bye," he murmured, staring at her, trying to engrave her looks into his mind. 

Heather turned slowly and walked away, toward Russell's truck, resisting the urge to turn around and go back. She hugged Stanley and told Johnston goodbye, then climbed into the truck between Ted and Russell. 

Within moments, Jake's car was nothing but a distant memory in the rearview mirror.


End file.
